


Stars & Shadows

by Santal2021



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, acosf, post acosf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:53:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29859075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Santal2021/pseuds/Santal2021
Summary: Post ACOSF, my take on the hopeful romance between Gwyn & Azriel.
Relationships: Azriel/Gwyneth Berdara, Elain Archeron/Lucien Vanserra, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 24
Kudos: 106





	1. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Taking a break from my Azriel/Rhys' sister fic to write about my new favourite ACOTAR ship- Gwyn and Az! I saw so much potential between them and couldn't wait however long it'll be until the next book, so here we are! This will be *very* slow burn so buckle up x

The night air was biting tonight, harsh winds sweeping off the surrounding mountains and rushing over the exposed training ring in great gusts. Gwyn shivered, wrapping the thin layers of her robes tighter around here. She came up here often when she couldn’t sleep. Sometimes to take out her frustration and anger on the punching bag, other times to simply stand, feeling the air shift through her hair, skate across her bones. Just exist somewhere so open, so free.

Tonight was one of those nights. She wasn’t sure exactly what time it was, the moon was high in the sky, the city sleeping below. Maybe an hour or two from sunrise. The House was quiet below, Nesta and Cassian had long since gone to sleep. She heaved a sigh, filling her lungs with the cool mountain air.

Gwyn sat down, easing onto her back on the cold stone of the training ring, not bothering to heave over a mat for comfort. If she closed her eyes, the silence and brisk air reminded her of nights in Sangravah, before everything fell apart. Nights, much like tonight, where she would sneak away from her sleeping sisters and climb one of the turrets to be closer to the night sky.

The twinkling stars had always been a source of comfort for Gwyn, the pinpricks of light eternal and unchanging, despite the turmoil they witnessed down below they remained steady. Forever bright and shining, lighting up the dark. They reminded her that she could do the same, poke holes in the velvet dark and let the light in.

She slowly stretched her arms above her head, feeling her back creak against the stone. That was enough philosophising for tonight, the Mother knew she could spend forever staring up at the sky lost in introspective musings. She snorted, imagining Emerie’s reaction if she knew Gwyn had hauled herself out of bed to lay on the ground and imagine herself as a star.

She was lucky, so unimaginably lucky to have the friends she did. When she first arrived in Velaris barely a husk of her former self, she never thought she would be here. Outside, thinking of Sangravah without wanting to scream and cry. Knowing that when she woke in the morning she would be _training_ of all things. With friends, true friends. Gwyn pushed to her feet, letting a smile rise to her lips. Lucky, indeed.

__________________________________

“Ladies, how many times do I have to tell you? This is not gossip hour.” Cassian’s firm voice cut through their giggling, Nesta was midway through recounting a particularly raunchy scene in a novel her and Emerie were devouring, trying to convince Gwyn she should pick it up next. It _did_ sound rather intriguing, she’d give them that.

Nesta broke away first, turning her nose up at Cassian. “Perhaps if you and Azriel hadn’t been preening in the corner for so long we wouldn’t have to resort to gossiping.”

Gwyn giggled, looking over at the shadowsinger. He stood in the corner, shadows buzzing around him. Nesta was right, he was carefully polishing one of the Siphons on shoulder, looking up at the sound of his name. Dropping the cloth, he stalked over. Gwyn would never understood how he walked so quietly, despite his size his feet made no noise on the training mats.

Cassian raised a dark brow, poking Nesta in the shoulder with a blunt practice sword. She adjusted her stance, eyes lighting up with a familiar fire. So, it’d be one of _those_ mornings. Gwyn glanced over, catching Azriel’s gaze and rolling her eyes. His lip twitched up in answer, walking around her to grab a sword of his own. He gestured wordlessly with it to one of the mats.

Grabbing a sword, she joined Azriel on the mat. She enjoyed training with him the most, enjoyed his quiet, precise explanations. His unwavering focus on perfecting her form. Cassian’s instructions were more aggressive and tactile, more suited to Emerie and Nesta’s style. With her nymph heritage Gwyn preferred tactical movements and speed over blunt force, more like dancing, in a way.

Azriel raised his sword and she quickly followed suit, starting off slow, warming up her muscles. His face was intent, focused as ever. She couldn’t help the shiver that went down her spine whenever he trained his whole attention on her, his deep hazel eyes didn’t miss anything. Before she knew it they were moving faster, spinning and jabbing, dancing around each other. Gwyn fought to control her breathing, noticing with annoyance Azriel had barely broken a sweat, swinging his sword around with one hand.

 _Yes!_ She had succeeded in landing a jab straight to his torso, in between his ribs. Azriel jumped back with a huff, rubbing the spot gingerly. “Impressive,” he muttered, shifting his sword to the other hand. “If that was a real sword you certainly would’ve injured me.” He frowned, examining her hold on the handle. He took a slow step forward, checking to make sure she was ok before he got closer. She nodded and he stretched a hand out.

Scarred fingers wrapped around her wrist, rotating her grip on the blade. “Your wrist will tire quickly at that angle, rotate it slightly. Like this.” He gently turned her grip, pressing into the tendons at the base of her wrist. His hand was warm, burning her skin with his touch. She obeyed, feeling her stiff wrists relax with the new position.

He was standing close enough that she could see the individual cords of shadow wrapping around his arm, sliding up his neck. She watched their progress, fascinated.

“What are they?” He paused, still touching her wrist. His eyes searched her face for a moment before he dropped his hand, stepping back.

“Shadows.”

Gwyn frowned at the non-answer. “Yes… I mean, do you control them? Are they alive?”

He took a further step back, extending his arm in front of him. As she watched a single shadow wrapped around his arm, sliding down to curl in his palm. Fascinating. “So, yes?”

“Yes, to a degree. They do my bidding and their own.” Her eyebrows pulled together, examining the coiled shadow still resting in her palm. Her hand involuntarily rose towards it, wanting to see what the shadow felt like. Would it be warm or cool? Solid or nothing more than air?

For a moment, the shadow rose out of Azriel’s palm, reaching towards her. He lowered his hand abruptly, the shadow vanishing. Gwyn quashed the disappointment at his rebuff. He picked up the sword again, face unreadable. Widening his stance, he held it up in her direction.

“Again.”

__________________________________

Azriel launched himself into the sky off the balcony at the House of Wind, ignoring the biting sting of the wind on his wings. He was in a foul mood today, as he was most days lately. Both Rhys and Cassian were entirely preoccupied with their family life, Rhys with Nyx and Feyre and Cassian with Nesta. At all hours, constantly. Azriel could hardly stand to be at the House of Wind for fear of stumbling into something he _really_ didn’t want to see. The river house was no better, the jealous pangs in his heart for an entirely different reason.

The townhouse it was, he thought as he banked sharply downwards, heading towards the familiar building. It didn’t help that he didn’t have much to do work-wise at the moment. Beron would have to be dealt with eventually, but for now Rhys was content to see how things played out. Azriel was beginning to grown concerned with how detached Rhys had become from court manoeuvring since Nyx was born, no one seemed overly bothered with the rising tension but him. Everyone was distracted by their family, their mates.

As Azriel flew closer he detected a familiar presence at the townhouse. What was Feyre doing there, by herself? He cast a shadow down ahead of him, searching through the house. Nothing seemed amiss, either there or at the river house. Rhys was at home with the baby, strangely his mate came alone.

Azriel landed on the balcony, silently moving through the house to where Feyre waited in the front room. She looked up as she entered, her face uncharacteristically solemn.

“Azriel, hello,” she breathed, rising to greet him. “How are you?”

He looked at her suspiciously. Something was clearly the matter, she didn’t need to bother with niceties. “What is it?”

Her face smoothed over as she sat back down with a sigh, gesturing to the seat next to her. “Look, Az, we all care about you,” He sits down and stiffens immediately, knowing where this is going. She continues, “I know the past… while hasn’t been the easiest. And, well, I know your thoughts on Elain.” Azriel shuts down completely, rising to his feet.

“No, please, just hear me out.” He pauses, keeping his eyes locked on her. Damn her and Rhys, always in his business, thinking they knew what was best for him. Deciding his life for him.

“I want you to know that this wasn’t our decision, we aren’t forcing anyone to do anything.” He snorts lightly and she narrows her eyes, voice cooling a degree. “Elain wants a change of scenery, she wants to leave Velaris for a while. Lucien has invited her to visit him with Jurian and Vassa and she has agreed.”

Azriel forced his face to remain impassive, betraying nothing. Inside, he was reeling. He had no idea she wanted to leave Velaris, wanted to leave him. Things had been admittedly awkward since she returned his Solstice present, but he didn’t think she’d want to just pack her bags and escape. And _Lucien?_ She never wanted anything to do with her mate before, why now?

“When does she leave?” He turned towards the door, intent on finding Elain and getting answers immediately. Feyre’s hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks. He whirled around, looking down at her. She looked distraught, lower lip caught between her teeth.

“She’s already gone.” She shifted, reaching into her coat pocket, drawing something out. “Here, she wanted me to give you this.” A folded letter was pressed into his palm. Azriel looked down at it, disbelieving that Elain would leave without a word, how little he must mean to her.

“Az… we’re here for you. We all are. Please don’t shut yourself off.” He kept his eyes on the note, not acknowledging her words. After a moment, she sighed, brushing passed him and moving towards the door. He sensed her eyes on him, pausing at the threshold. He didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to see that flash of golden brown hair, so like her sister’s.

Feyre left at last, leaving him clutching the worn paper, afraid to open it. He could see dark ink marks through the paper, words crossed out, holes where the nib had pierced the paper. Gingerly, he opened it, eyes moving swiftly across the page.

_“Azriel,_

_I’m sorry to leave so quickly, truly, I am. I’m very grateful for your friendship and quiet presence this past year. I don’t know how I would’ve adjusted leaving my humanity behind if it wasn’t for you. I will always hold you dear to me, please know that. I can’t let the bond with Lucien go, can’t dismiss the tug on my heart towards him. I can’t fully let it go, not yet. It was selfish of me to avoid him immediately, to not give him a fair chance. You deserve better, you deserve someone who is entirely yours in a way I will never be. Please forgive me.”_

He crumpled the paper in his fist, eyes unseeing. He couldn’t believe it. All her words, her subtle signals towards him that she wanted him as much as he wanted her, dismissed. Written off. Once again he was pushed aside without a second thought, deemed second best. She was wrong, he didn’t deserve better. Rhys and Cassian deserved mates, deserved someone perfect for them, _made_ for them. He did not. That much was clear.

Dropping the letter in the fire, Azriel shook his head, burying his feelings deep within. He had plenty of practice denying himself, this wasn’t the first time. Why he thought Elain would be any different, he’ll never know.

He was out the door in a second, launching into the air. Cassian and Nesta were out for the evening, the House would be empty. That suited him perfectly, he needed to punch something. Needed to hurt, to drive his body into oblivion. Needed to beat the writhing emotions out of him.

The House was dark as he flew closer, as he suspected. It was a brutal night, rain lashed against him sideways, the wind rolling him through the air. Even better.

He descended down towards the House in a flurry of wings and darkness, eyes intent on the training ring. It came into view slowly, stone reflecting the meagre moonlight back towards him, shiny with rain. To his surprise, a figure sat hunched in the centre of the ring, folded down over themselves. Azriel spread his wings, slowing his descent. The figure became clearer as he approached, landing on the stone softly.

Gwyn was sitting on the ground, chin on her knees. She didn’t seem to notice the driving rain beating down on her body, soaking her thin robes. She didn’t notice him either, stepping silently towards her. Despite his black mood, he found himself grow worried as to why she was sitting out here in the freezing rain, soaking wet.

“Gwyn?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts! I dunno if it's improbable how fast I got Elain out of the picture, but oh well, she needed to go. Thanks for reading, should have the next chapter up soon!


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight TW for Gwyn thinking about Sangravah, also some unhealthy coping mechanisms. I've also added an archive warning for sexual assault, although it will just be her working through it and nothing actually happening again. Thanks for reading!

The rain wasn’t helping. Not the wind rattling through her bones, not the cramping pressure in her folded legs, not even the freezing stone under her body. She could feel _everything_ yet it did nothing to ground her, nothing to draw her back to the present. All she could hear was _them,_ their cries, the noises, the screams. Gwyn pressed her forehead harder to her knees, seeing stars behind her eyes. She hated nights like these.

The horrors of Sangravah never fully left her, but most of the time they were manageable. She could unspool the thoughts like fine thread, picking out the decay and unwinding it from her mind, releasing it into the wind. Training helped. Nesta and Emerie helped. Mother, even _Cassian_ helped. But sometimes, without warning, nothing helped. Nothing could keep those corrosive threads from winding tight around her neck, squeezing the breath from her lungs.

Gwyn cut off her air, holding her body completely still. Thanks to her nymph heritage she could hold her breath longer than most, but eventually it would start to burn, start to remind her of where she was. Bring her back to her body. After a few minutes she sat upright with a gasp, falling flat on her back, chest heaving. Better. She felt better.

A scrape sounded across the training ground, a boot against stone. Gwyn launched to her feet, remembering her Valkyrie training as she spun on her heel, fists clenched in front of her.

Azriel stood near the doorway, eyes wide, palms held in front of him, showing her he wasn’t a threat. He looked disheveled in ways the wind wouldn’t do, his face drawn and wan. Gwyn couldn’t draw her eyes from his face, she felt like she had never truly looked at him until this very moment. Never studied the precise angle of his jaw, the elegant sweep of his cheekbones. The particular shade of his eyes, the swirling greens and golds.

She sucked in a breath, her body relaxing and filling with more than air. She was above water, she had been drowning but now there was nothing but air. Beautiful, sweet, life giving air. Tingling started in her palms, brushing up her arms, sweeping along her ribs to curl at the nape of her neck. Was she dreaming? Had she forgotten to take a breath earlier? The feeling was indescribable, Gwyn’s world suddenly shifted beneath her, realigning and focusing on _him._ On Azriel. Everything in her tugged her towards him. He was _hers._

Azriel took a step forward, shocking Gwyn out of her revelations. He looked confused, shadows swirling up his arms, nudging into his ear. Gwyn took a step back, hands flying to her heart, trying to feel if the change was tangible. If it was outside her body, visible to him. She knew what it was but she wouldn’t name it. _Couldn’t_ name it.

She heard a low choking sound, belatedly realising it came from her own mouth, currently flopped open like a fish. Azriel advanced closer towards her, dark brow pulling closer over his eyes. No. No, he couldn’t come near her. He hadn’t felt it, that snap that had upended her world. It was just her. She couldn’t do this. Not now.

Before he could take another step she was running, ducking down the stairs and flying down them as fast as she could, feet unsteady on the steps. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real. By the Mother, she was not in the mind frame to deal with this. Why now, why _him?_ Someone she was beginning to see as a friend, maybe even trust. Someone who had been there at the absolute worst moment of her life. Someone the Mother apparently saw fit to be hers.

She was through the doors of the library in mere moments, ignoring Clotho’s surprised face as she hurtled past, running deeper into the shelves. Only once she had cleared several floors did she stop, sliding her back down against the shelves, falling to the ground.

Her head spun. It was a feeling like she never imagined, one she never allowed herself to dream of having. Her mind still wouldn’t let her give it a name, the fear that acknowledging it would solidify it, would force her to confront it. Demand action.

She was still reeling but if there was one thing she knew, one thing she was absolutely positive about, it was that she would _not_ be telling Azriel about what had snapped into place for her. If anything were to… If it was real…. If they wanted it, he would have to realise it for himself. She would not force that choice upon him.

Gwyn’s fingers rose to her neck, digging through the tops of her robe, pulling at the fine chain. Tugging the necklace from its hiding place, she held it up to the light, admiring the intricate craftsmanship. When Clotho had given it to her she had an idea who it was from, but nothing more than hopeful musings. It was warm to the touch, the metal glowing faintly in the dim light. Was it her imagination or did it seem to pulse brighter than usual?

She sighed, letting the pendant drop to her chest. Now that she was here in the library, her place of solitude and healing, could she properly examine the situation. Yes, she knew what Azriel was to her. Knew what had joined them tonight. She knew it would grow stronger, pull her towards him unrelentingly. Even if it took years, decades even, for it to snap into place for him, it would always be there for her. Forever. Tugging her towards him. Calling her to claim him, to make him _hers._

Gwyn shuddered, closing her eyes and drawing her knees close to her chest. Now that her head was clearer, she allowed herself a slight smile. A bare tug of her lips. She could do _much_ worse than Azriel. The moment she laid eyes on him during that training session, and every time since them, she had been absolutely mesmerised by the shadowsinger. Drawn in by his brooding, his rare smile, those swirling shadows. In the instances she had perused those filthy novels Nesta and Emerie loved so much had she subconsciously slotted in someone like Azriel into the place of the love interest? Perhaps.

A sigh slipped past her lips. He was beautiful and intriguing, but it was all too much. Too soon. She had just begun to feel her heart healing, the tender roots of friendship and life breaking up the rot that had begun to decay in her soul.

This might be for the best, that it snapped into place for her first. The Mother knew she would need time to trust a male enough to let herself be vulnerable around in all the ways couples were with each other. Emotionally… physically. It was a lot for Gwyn. It would take her time, time she had been given with feeling the bond before him.

Pulling herself to her feet, Gwyn slowly made her way to her room. Her body felt weak and shaky after the battering it had taken both mentally and physically today. She needed to rest. Tomorrow, she would wake and figure out how to exist around Azriel without letting on what had happened. One thing she was certain on was that he must find out for himself. She couldn’t bear to take that choice, that shining moment she experienced, away from him.

__________________________________

Azriel stood for a moment, watching the space Gwyn had just ran from. She had looked like she’d seen a ghost when they locked eyes, her face going utterly slack. It had been the strangest thing, her face had completely wiped of any emotion, her large eyes fixed unrelentingly on his. She was normally remarkably easy to read, even for him, but he had no clue what that was about. The longer her eyes remained locked on his the more his shadows had danced, swirling around him and buzzing into his ears. Almost like they were celebrating.

He started to trace her steps, winding down the stairs towards the library. He caught her scent in the air, cool water and something floral and calming, maybe lavender. There was something else there, something new, a sweet and light undertone he couldn’t name.

A shadow slid up his neck into his ear. _Leave her for tonight._ He paused, frowning. What did they care? He continued walking, relieved to have something to focus on that wasn’t Elain’s abrupt dismissal. His hand closed over the library door, a shadow wrapping around his hand and holding it tight the handle. He sighed in irritation, they normally weren’t this insistent.

_Go home._

He huffed, tugging fruitlessly against his hand. Who answered to who, here? They weren’t relenting and after another moment of fighting against them he gave, rubbing his scarred palm with the opposite hand. He’d take their advice and go home, his energy for arguing completely diminished with Gwyn’s odd behaviour. Casting one last look at the library door, he headed towards his old room in the House, hoping that by the time Nesta and Cassian arrived home they’d be too tired to wake him up with their shameless noises. He should be so lucky.

*

Azriel awoke with a groan, rolling over in bed to tuck himself into a ball by the edge, stretching his wings behind him. His dreams had been strange last night. He had been floating deep underwater, the sea a clear blue-green around him. He had looked up, catching bright golden shafts of sunlight shining through the water, illuminating the sea around him. Someone had been calling his name, urging him to swim towards the sun, but he couldn’t. Something held him in the depths, kept him from rising towards the light.

He sighed, scrubbing his eyes. Strange dreams were hardly his main concern this morning. He had a busy day ahead of him; joining Nesta and Cassian for breakfast before heading with Cass to check in on some remote Illyrian camps. It would be good to stretch his wings with his brother.

Dressing quickly, he made his way through the House to the breakfast table, finding Cassian and Nesta already seated. Cassian was attacking his plate with a single minded focus as Nesta abruptly turned in her chair, waving towards the doorway. Azriel paused on the threshold, catching sight of Gwyn as she appeared in the door. He noticed she unusually wasn’t in her robes or leathers today, clad instead in dark leggings and a deep green jumper that made her eyes brighter than ever.

She smiled at Nesta, walking over. Azriel followed suit, pulling out a chair and sitting down. Gwyn looked up, catching his eyes. A brilliant red blush spread up her neck and covered her cheeks, she looked as startled to see him as she did last night in the rain.

He raised an eyebrow, scooping eggs onto his plate. “Gwyn.”

She cleared her throat, fiddling with a pastry Nesta had handed her. “Yes, hello Azriel. You too, Cassian, hello. Nesta.” Her blush now extended all the way to her hairline. Nesta was looking at her oddly, chin propped up on her fist.

“Everything ok, Gwyn?” She nodded swiftly, keeping her eyes on the table. An awkward silence pulsed, Azriel leaned back in his chair, surveying the table. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but something had changed. Maybe Gwyn was embarrassed that he caught her in such a vulnerable position last night.

“Gwyn and I are going into Velaris today,” Nesta announced, nudging Gwyn with her elbow. She nodded in reply, chewing on her pastry mechanically. “I need to start putting a dent in those funds Rhys gave me.” She winked at Cassian who smiled broadly at his mate in turn. Azriel looked back towards Gwyn.

“Have you been into Velaris, Gwyn?” Her eyes darted towards his then back to her plate. She toyed with her fork, letting a sheet of coppery hair cover half her face.

“Ah… No, actually. I thought it would be good for me to start leaving the library more.” Nesta nodded sagely, patting her friend’s hand.

“It was her idea actually, after she caught wind of some of the musical shops in the Rainbow.” Gwyn smiled, her body relaxing slightly. Yes, she would like the Rainbow and its selection of artistic shops, not to mention the theatres and music halls.

“You should visit The Gilded Horn.” Both Gwyn and Nesta looked over at him with interest, Nesta gesturing with her fork for him to elaborate. Despite his years in Velaris, Cassian too looked confused. He wasn’t surprised Cass had never been to the tiny music hall.

“It’s a music hall, but it’s a bit different than you’d expect.” He allowed himself a slight smile at Gwyn, knowing how much she was going to love what he was about to say. “There’s no instruments allowed, only voices. It’s in a grotto built into the side of the mountain, at the end of the Rainbow. It’s made to amplify voices. People perform there everyday.”

Gwyn’s face had lit up as he suspected, leaning towards him with her teal eyes wide. “ _Really?_ Oh Nesta, we must go!” She bounced in her seat, looking more like herself than she had all morning. Nesta chuckled and nodded her head in agreement.

“You boys are welcome to come, of course.” Azriel swiftly shook his head, not today. He didn’t want to stroll around Velaris and play happy family. Didn’t want to see all the smiling faces, hear the beautiful music, pretend like he was fine. No, today was a day for Illyria. For sharp winds on his wings, for punishment and brutality.

“Cassian and I are headed to Illyria.” Cassian grunted in agreement, rising to his feet. He stretched a hand towards Nesta, twining his fingers around her loose braid, tugging her head back to plant a kiss on her lips.

“That we do. Do you need flown down?” Nesta looked towards Gwyn, raising her eyebrow. Gwyn’s face heated again as she cut a quick glance his way. He hadn’t thought about how they’d be getting down from the House, surely she wouldn’t want to scale the 10,000 steps.

Gwyn turned towards Cassian, “Yes, that would be great.” She stood, walking towards the open balcony, Nesta on her heels. Cassian looked over the top of her head towards him.

“Can you give Gwyn a lift, Az?” He glanced towards Gwyn, who looked distinctly nervous at the prospect. She takes a breath and gives a tiny nod.

“Have you ever flown before?” She takes half a step closer to him, wringing her hands.

“No I haven’t.”

He chuckles, “I’ll go slow, don’t worry. Are you sure you’re okay?” He shadows buzzed around him happily, leaping out towards Gwyn, eager to touch her.

She blew out a breath. “Yes, it’s good for me to try new things. Now…” she waved her hands in front of her, gesturing to her body. “What do I do with… me.”

He held his arms up, ghosting one across her spine and bending slightly to touch the backs of her knees, preparing to sweep her up. “May I?” She nodded, her hand delicately grabbing onto his shoulder. He heard her gasp as she made contact and he stilled immediately, looking over to see what had startled her. One of his shadows had sprung from his shoulder to slide against her hand, wrapping around her pinky finger. He swiftly pulled it back, apologising.

She smiled as he smoothly hoisted her into his arms. “I don’t mind. I’m surprised by how warm they are.” He nodded, adjusting his grip on the backs of her legs. Her body was warm and pliant around him, her cold water and lavender scent surrounding him. There was still that sweet undertone of _something_ there, oddly familiar.

A few moments later and they were airborne, Gwyn gasping and wedging the top of her head under his chin, her eyes screwed shut. He pulled her in closer, not wanting her to be afraid.

“Open your eyes, it’s easier that way. I promise.” She slowly peeled them open, peering cautiously down to the city below them.

“This isn’t so bad, I suppose.” She was smiling now, slowly relaxing against him. He frowned, remembering her hunched figure last night, her strangely empty face.

“I’m sorry for stumbling into you last night. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Every muscle in her body locked up with his words, tensing against him. That blush sprang up over her pale cheeks again. She shook her head, keeping her eyes studiously off him.

“No, it’s fine. It wasn’t you.” His shadow nudged his ear insistently. _Ask her more._

The Rainbow loomed below them, bright and noisy. He would ask her another time, perhaps. Then again, it wasn’t any of his business, so maybe he wouldn’t ask. His shadows need to learn their place.

Gwyn was out of his arms barely a second after they landed, he had stumbled slightly at her speed launching herself away from him. He didn’t blame her, no one liked being questioned about their private moments. He scowled, not like that had stopped his family before.

Nesta and Cassian stood intwined a few feet away. Cauldron, you’d think Cassian was preparing to head off to war with their antics. He rolled his eyes, looking back towards Gwyn. She was watching them too, her face unreadable.

“Cassian. Enough.” Cassian finally pulled away with a disconcerting sucking noise and strolled over to Azriel, utterly unconcerned with their extremely public display.

“Alright, let’s go. Have a good time, ladies. Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do.” He winked at them before flaring his wings, shooting into the sky. Azriel glanced once more time at Gwyn before following suit, chasing Cassian up into the clouds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to go a bit of a different route with Gwyn knowing Azriel's her mate first as I want to explore her seeing him in that light and growing to trust and love him first - I think it'll be good for her too with her history. Thank you all so much for your kind comments on the last chapter, can't wait to hear your thoughts on this one!


End file.
